


Legacy of the Cowl

by scandalsavage



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman!Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne dies at the end of Endgame, But the only one who knew that was Bruce, Dick Grayson is Agent 37, Future Dick Grayson/Jason Todd - Freeform, Jason Todd is Batman, M/M, No Amnesia, Rating May Change, i sure don’t, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 04:10:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18175667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Bruce Wayne is gone. And this time, he isn’t coming back. The abscence of Batman is felt throughout the city of Gotham. Innocents hide and criminals are emboldened.But the obvious successor to the cowl is no longer an option.The mantle is a heavy one; a burden not borne lightly. Who can carry it without being crushed beneath it’s weight?





	Legacy of the Cowl

**Author's Note:**

> I reread Countdown lately for my... well my Countdown series, and I kept coming back to the earth where Bruce was killed in the desert and Jason became Batman and literally the first thing someone says when they get to that earth is a disbelieving comment about how clean and safe Gotham is and how Superman isn’t even needed.
> 
> So that inspired this. Originally, it wasn’t going to come out for a while. I wasn’t going to even touch the preliminary notes until after I finished a few other things first. But then I felt motivated to work on it so I indulged that. THEN I saw a few posts on Tumblr that kind of related to it and I thought, now would be a good time to post it while people are thinking about it. So I finished up the first chapter and here you go.
> 
> And now I’ll get to work on updating some of my neglected fics ❤️

Damian sits pouting in the corner. He’s not a fan of the plan.

To be fair, Tim’s not exactly thrilled about it either. But all the options are bad options and this is the best of the bad options.

The ominous rumble of a Bat-customized motorcycle echoes off the cave walls long before the gleaming red helmet of the driver is visible. Tim can’t help fidgeting, taking deep breaths in a futile attempt to settle his nerves. He has no idea how Jason will take this. It’s equally possible that he’ll say yes without thinking or that he’ll refuse outright. The first would be troubling. The second would be disastrous.

“Are you sure about this, Master Tim?” Alfred asks.

“Not in the slightest,” Tim says. “Why? Are you having second thoughts?”

“Not at all. I have always believed Master Jason was capable of doing what you’re about to ask of him. My concern is for you.”

Tim turns his attention to the aged butler. He looks, for the first time in Tim’s memory, every inch his many years and as tired as he must feel. The past week has been hard on all of them, but it has been particularly difficult for Alfred.

“Really? You’re more worried about me than Jason?”

“You tend to carry the responsibility for the actions of others as if they were your own. You’re very much like Master Bruce in that respect.”

Alfred smiles sadly and Tim flinches as Jason slides into the spot for his bike and kills the engine.

“Does anyone care about my reservations?” Damian says petulantly.

“You agreed, Damian,” Tim sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew this whole thing would give him a migraine and he can feel it coming.

“I deferred to your reasoning. That is not the same thing.”

Blessedly, before Tim has the chance to respond, Jason, in full Red Hood attire, is striding up the steps. It’s telling that he doesn’t often remove his helmet in the cave. Even more so that he still doesn’t, all things considered.

“Alright. I’m here,” he growls, sounding put upon, “What’s so important it couldn’t wait and so secret you couldn’t tell me over coms?”

He stops at the top of the stairs, close enough to his bike to make a hasty retreat should he need to, and crosses his arms across the red bat on his broad chest.

Instead of waiting for a response to the question hanging in the air, one that Tim is happy to put off mentioning even if he knows the respite won’t last long, Jason nods to Alfred.

“Hey, Al,” he says, much more gently, “How are you holding up?”

“I have a great deal to keep me busy, Master Jason.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question...”

“Quite right, sir. But I’m afraid it is all I have to offer at the moment.”

Jason’s red helmet bobs at him again before Alfred continues. “If I may? This will be the only thing I say on the subject so I do hope you will hear Master Tim out, and consider his-our proposition, all sides of it, before making a decision. But I want you to know where I stand on the issue. I believe in you, young man. You have a kind heart and caring soul. You can do this, if you decide it’s what you want.”

Tim can’t see the expression under the hood but Jason is silent for a moment. He starts to think that maybe the second Robin suspects why they’ve asked him here, why they’ve gathered what remains of their family together. He thinks that might be easier. If Jason knew. Then Tim wouldn’t have to figure out how to sell it to him.

But when Jason speaks, is tone is confused; questioning.

“Um… okay… thanks, Al.” He shifts his weight between his feet, a tell Tim recognizes as discomfort. Jason hasn’t known how to handle compliments since his return. Perhaps because they’re so few and far between.

This time the silence extends into minutes. He knows it’s up to him. Tim is the only one it can really come from now. Yet he can’t find it him to get started, to make the first move. Once he does…

Once he does, everything becomes real.

“I thought you called me here to tell me off. ‘Stay outta Gotham, Jason, or else’ kinda thing. Alfred’s comment makes that seem pretty unlikely,” Jason says, reaching up, fiddling with the helmet as he steps further onto the platform, closer to where Tim, Alfred, and Damian are standing. There’s a quiet hiss as the faceplate detaches and he pulls the hood from his head. A lingering sadness hides behind curious eyes. “So what’s up, Timbo?”

Tim smiles at the nickname. He and Jason have come a long way. Jason has come a long way with everyone. Or rather, he had come a long way with everyone.

He swallows and takes a deep breath.

“Bruce is gone,” Tim feels Damian get even stiffer beside him, hears Alfred swallow hard, and sees Jason go still. It’s only been a week, it’s still fresh for everyone. Tim’s own heart breaks every time he thinks about it. Especially because it’s a brutal reminder that… “And Dick is gone.”

They’ve lost so much in the last few months; a third of the family taken so close together. They hadn’t had any time to heal after Dick was killed by the Crime Syndicate before Bruce was murdered by the Joker.

“I know, Tim,” Jason frowns. Dick’s death had hit him pretty hard. Tim thinks maybe there had been something more between them. Or that something more was building between them before… “What’s your point?”

Time to rip off the bandaid.

“Gotham needs Batman,” he starts and Jason’s eyes immediately go wide. Tim barrels on before Jason can interrupt, waving a hand between himself and Damian, “We’re too young, too small. No one will ever believe we’re the real deal. Criminals won’t be afraid of us.”

Damian snorts but otherwise remains quiet. They had talked this to death already. It took three attempts but eventually the current Robin saw the logic in Tim’s argument; reluctant as he was to admit it.

“You’re the only one who can fill the cowl now,” Tim soldiers on, even as Jason is already shaking his head, hands up, and stepping back.

“You can’t be serious,” the older boy says. Because despite appearances to the contrary, Jason is only a couple years older than Tim, still so young. Too young to have to carry a burden like this. Tim knows the weight of it, what they’re asking of him. Even if Damian thinks only of the great privilege that it certainly is, Tim knows it’s not _only_ that.

Yes, it is an honor. But Batman is also a curse.

“I think you know that we are,” Tim replies gingerly. He doesn’t want to scare Jason away by being too forceful.

Jason glances between them all, lingering on Alfred for an extra beat. Tim can see Alfred’s words replaying in his mind. He blinks more rapidly and when he speaks his voice is thick with emotion.

“I… I’m… thrilled, I guess, that we’re at a place where you feel comfortable asking, even if it’s just because I’m the only option,” he rambles, running his hand through his hair, “It… it wasn’t too long ago you’d have preferred no Batman to me. Not that you’d have been wrong but that’s my point, I guess, that you weren’t wrong and I don’t think enough has changed to really make this make sense, you know? I mean, I haven’t changed. Alright I have, a little. But I don’t know that it’s enough. I still think that some criminals need to be—“

“Oh my god,” Damian snarls, “Shut up, Todd.”

To everyone’s surprise, Jason’s mouth snaps shut. He swallows and rubs at his neck.

“You’re an excellent fighter and extremely intelligent. You’re perfectly capable, Jason,” Tim says after another short awkward silence, “You’re only a little leaner than Bruce, the difference will be even less noticeable than when Dick took over. There’s only two questions you need to answer. Batman works too closely with the GCPD, outside the law but within Gordon’s graces. Killing the criminals will strain that relationship, if not break it entirely, and undermine Batman’s effectiveness. You would have to separate your beliefs on the subject from the job. So the question is, can you do that?”

  
“I don’t care about working with the GCPD,” Jason says after a moment.

Tim tenses, waiting for the inevitable argument that Batman should be permanently dispatching his rogues. He’d expected it; has a more thoroughly constructed rebuttal prepared.

“But…” Jason pauses and kicks at a piece of nothing on the polished floor, “Batman is Bruce’s legacy. We argued and fought and fundamentally disagreed about important things but… I still respect him. I’d never take Batman and do something in such direct opposition to his wishes.”

Tim thinks back to the last time Bruce died, to the war before Dick finally put on the cape, to when Jason had do exactly that. But that was a different time. A different person. Bruce had heard about all Jason had done then and firmly believed that he’d been possessed by the power of the Pit, that his actions were so distinctly different from the man Bruce had been fighting before, so much more unhinged than anything Jason had done later, that he couldn’t have been at all himself. Jason had, entirely independently, let slip once, when he was drunk and apologetic, that he didn’t remember much of that time, confiding in Tim (whether he realized it or not) that everything from then was obscured by green fog in his memory.

They had all long since forgiven Jason and moved on.

“That’s… actually a better reason,” Tim acknowledges, feeling more than a little relieved. This was the big one. He didn’t think Jason would give into that condition so easily. Tim feels a weight he didn’t know he was carrying lift. He had always known Jason loved Bruce, that was the root of all the older boy’s pain. But he feels reassured, knowing that he also respected their mentor and what the man stood for, even though they had deep ideological differences.

“And the second question?” Jason asks quietly, voice dry and cracking.

Tim smiles at him. But it’s Damian who answers.

“Do you want to?”

 

* * *

 

  
The first couple months are a little rough while he finds his way.

Damian agrees to stay, to be the Robin to his Batman and Jason is both surprised and grateful. He’s the third Batman Damian has partnered with and he often wonders how that weighs on the kid.

Tim also sticks around for support. He lets the Teen Titans know that he won’t be available for a while. ‘Family business’ he calls it. But he also tries to stay out of things unless he’s needed. Tries to let Jason and Damian get a feel for each other and the new dynamic.

Jason suspects it’s not as seamless a transition as it was for Dick. But then, he’s used to the shade from that shadow. However, it doesn’t take as long as he thought it would to find a rhythm. The mantle is heavy but… it fits him better than he thought it would.  
It’s after the first week, and only a few tight-lipped looks from Tim, when he sits down with Damian to discuss their shared tendency to be maybe a little excessively violent. Damian complains that it’s not as though Bruce was ever gentle.

“That’s true,” Jason says reasonably, “But we left all those guys in traction. And sure, it felt good and they deserve that and worse but… now their trials are postponed and their lawyers are managing to drudge up a lot of sympathy for their ‘poor, helpless’ clients.”

Jason misses the days when he didn’t have to worry about things like that; media spins, reporters looking for a new angle just to be the ones to say something interesting. The Red Hood never had to worry about some arms dealer getting a lighter sentence because the public thought he was too brutal.

That is the same week Tim notices a weird signal and communications setup on the Batcomputer, obviously established by Bruce. But they can’t figure out how to access it. They all resolve to try to work it out.

It’s only in the third week that Jason finally works up the nerve to answer the bat signal.

He lands on the roof of the police building with practiced ease. Because he’s been practicing. Like crazy. He hasn’t worn a cape since he was 16 and that one was substantially lighter and shorter. Jason has a lot more respect for Bruce running around in this thing for years. It’s bulky and heavy and it’s impossible to turn his head. If it wasn’t for the state of the art HUD in the cowl’s lenses, the same tech he uses in the red helmet, Jason would have already died. Again.

Not to mention the way he has to compensate for the cape and cowl in his fighting style. It has been a steep learning curve, but he is starting to feel more confident.

At least until he catches sight of himself in the mirror, wearing Bruce’s suit like it’s his (even if this one is actually made for him), black bat sitting proudly on his armor-clad chest. Then he feels like an imposter. A fake. A cheap imitation, not even of the original, but of the original’s preferred replacement.

“You’re a new one,” Gordon says tiredly, sounding more than a little irritated, “Not the original. Not Nightwing.”

Jason is immensely grateful for the cowl, hiding the way his eye twitches at the innocent mention of Dick. He never really expected Gordon to be fooled, even if it seems no one else has noticed. But he was still kind of hoping.

“Good call, Commissioner. ‘Fraid the other two are out of commission and you’re stuck with me,” he quips, trying to sound as light hearted as possible given that the other two are dead and have left a hole he can’t possibly fill, not just in the superhero world but in his heart.

Gordon squints at him through the dusty light from the signal. “So which one are you?”

“You really don’t want to know.”

“Right,” the older man hums, nodding, “You’re a lot less lethal in the black bat, kid. But, despite the change in tactics, Red Hood is still a very wanted man.”

Jason freezes. There was always a small chance that Gordon would add that up. But it had depended on what Bruce had told the Commissioner about the Red Hood and none of them knew the extent. There’s also not really a plan for it. If Gordon won’t work with him then he can’t be Batman.

Jim sighs past his mustache. “I noticed you have the support from the original’s allies. I’ve seen you working with Robin, Red Robin, Batgirl and the rest. All but Nightwing. I assume that since you’re the one here, the other two aren’t coming back.”

“No. They’re not.”

Gordon looks him up and down appraisingly. “No one knows who the Red Hood is and I don’t see anyone else reaching the same conclusion I have without a lot more information. So long as you abide by my guidelines, we should be able to work together. The rest of them trust you so I’m willing to give you a chance. Don’t make me regret it, kid.”

All in all, it went much better than it could have. Jason ended up solving the case Jim called Batman there for in just a few minutes of looking at the evidence earning a grunt of approval.

Two weeks after his first meeting with Gordon he brings the police in on a massive human trafficking ring after providing enough evidence to bury the dirty cops helping hide the organization.

It buys him enough credit to suggest some major changes to the revolving door that is Arkham several weeks later. Well, that and the latest in an increasingly, frustratingly, frequent mass breakout.

It’s also the first time he fights with Tim.

“Bruce would never do this. He had years to share our tech and he never did. That was probably for a good reason. Someone could misuse it.”

“Someone will misuse it, Tim. Someone always takes things meant for good and twists them for selfish ends. But that shouldn’t stop us from doing all the good we can. We can’t kill these psychos, fine. But we can sure as hell do everything possible to keep them where they belong; stop them from getting out and raising their body counts. Otherwise what’s the point?”

“Security isn’t Arkham’s only probably, Jason. This could make things worse.”

“I’m not only updating their physical security. We’ve provided the police with the evidence needed to send Strange to Blackgate once and for all and we’ve implemented a new system of checks and balances to get doctors who will actually help the people who can be helped.”

“A system you designed?”

“I gave some input but it was mostly done by professionals. People at the top of their fields, from outside of Gotham’s corruption.”

“This is overstepping, Jason. Bruce would never do this.”

There’s a tense silence between them.

“I’m not Bruce,” Jason finally says softly, “And I can’t do this if I’m trying to be.”

When Damian leaps to his defense, Tim decides to leave. Even though Alfred assures him that Bruce had occasionally mentioned doing something similar but had always had to run off to avert another crisis before he could really get started.

About a month passes before Tim calls him to apologize. He’s been keeping tabs on Arkham since Jason’s changes and things are working really well. It seems to be a kinder place where the inmates are actually starting to get some of the care they need.

It’s an easy reconciliation. Which is good. Because their day jobs had gotten a little tense after their argument. Bruce had managed to resurrect Jason in his will. Saying that after a long convalescence following the discovery that he hadn’t died in the Middle East, Jason had wished to remain out of the public eye. For some reason Bruce had seen fit to split everything between the four of them. But since Dick is no longer around and Damian is still in school, running things had fallen to Tim and Jason.

Tim had handled the business end of Wayne Enterprises before and it suits him. Jason helps there when he’s needed but he’s mostly assumed responsibility for the Wayne Foundation. They work closely together, not to mention that they’ve all been leaning on each other for the emotional support that none of them admit they need. So their falling out had been draining for both of them.

Jason has started trying to figure out the signal instead of sleeping. It bothers him that Bruce has something he kept a secret from all of them. That none of them know what this is or why it seems to be checking in at regular intervals.

Nearly four months after Jason’s first patrol in the cowl, corruption in Gotham is at a record low, Arkham’s reputation is mending, and Jason finds that through a combination of the Foundation’s outreach programs and a methodical, unified effort with the newly honest police, the violent crime rate is close to where he had it when the Red Hood made his debut.

Later that evening, he’s sitting at the batcomputer, running an even more farfetched program in an attempt to finally solve the problem of the unknown signal.

His lids droop heavily. Idly he wonders how Bruce managed to do this for so long. He’s already weary down to his soul. If it weren’t for Damian he doesn’t know how he’d manage.

A smile tugs at his lips. Guess that explains why there’s a Robin.

The computer chimes brightly before a moment of static and Jason, half asleep, almost dismissed it.

“Mr. Malone?! Are you there?! Please come in! I—I’ve been so worried!”

Jason’s eyes fly open and he jolts up so quickly he knocks the chair over and barely catches himself before he crashes to the ground.

He reads the data. Then rereads it to make sure. This isn’t a recording. This is a new, incoming transmission.

“Mr. Malone? Damnit B, answer me!”

Jason swallows hard. He’s using Bruce’s code name. But Jason doesn’t know what Bruce was calling him in return.

“Goldie?” He croaks incredulously into the com, “Is that really you?”

There’s a long, loaded pause where Jason almost starts to believe the whole thing is an extremely detailed hallucination.

“Little wing?”

Jason stares at the data lines on the screen.

Dick is _alive_?


End file.
